House of Cards
by Shaynezo
Summary: Two houses, both alike in dignity. Two families brought together by a crowning. Spencer Hastings followed the rules. Hanna Marin liked to break them. What will happen when their words collide? For this is the story of Juliet and her fair Julieta.


Hello! I know I keep doing this, and I promise, all of my stories will be continued (as well as finished), but my friend and I got this idea, and we just had to write it. She is the same person with whom I am writing _String Theory _with.

A note before we begin:

This is set in the 1700's - a time when being gay was punishable by death. Spencer is a Duchess of France while Hanna is a princess.

You will find out more about their families' backgrounds and how they came to be in the second chapter.

This is also a test run to see how you guys like the storyline.

* * *

"OUCH!" Spencer Hastings spun around, glaring at the timid, mousy-looking girl cowering before her. She was wringing her hands together so frantically Spencer was afraid she was going to tear her own skin off, but at this point, she was about to do it for her. "Mary Margaret, for the thousandth time, you tie the strings left over right. If you tie them right over left, I end up with bloody cuts in my back. You never listen to me." Spencer was standing in her enormous bedroom, wearing only her undergarments, pantyhose, and half-assembled corset. Mary Margaret, her maid, was supposed to be helping her dress for her crowning banquet that night, since Spencer was sixteen, the age when she could officially become a Duchess of France. Jane, another one of the maids, was trying to dress Annabeth, Spencer's squealing five-year-old sister on the other side of the room for the very same party.

Mary Margaret was always a frail girl. "I-I am so sorry, Miss Hastings. I am so sorry. I can ensure you, it won't happen again." "But I don't want this corset, I want the other one!"

Annabeth Hastings cried. "This one is ugly."

Spencer sighed heavily in annoyance. She just wanted to take off the damn corset, all of her clothes, really, and take a nap. Her crowning party sounded so dumb and boring. "It better not happen again! Now fix it, you little wretch."

Jane narrowed her eyes, muttering under her breath. "You have to wear this one, Miss. The other one is dirty. You fell off your pony into the mud yesterday, remember?"

Mary quickly untied Spencer's corset and started to lace it up the correct way. "I am so sorry, Miss," she muttered.

Annabeth stomped her foot. "You should have washed it! Mama won't be happy to hear you've been neglecting your duties, Jane."

Spencer leaned up against her bedpost, crossing her arms above her head and using them for support. She hated having her corset tied. She would be so bruised by the time she took it off. "Hurry up! I cannot be late for my party."

Jane rolled her dark eyes. She was so tired of being bossed around by a five-year-old. "I did wash it, Miss. But it is wet. It has to dry, Miss Annabeth."

Mary finished lacing up Spencer's corset and stepped back before Spencer could turn around and strike her. "I am done, Miss."

Annabeth clenched her tiny fists together. "You should have dried it faster! You can't do anything."

Spencer spun around, her long arms crossed over her chest. She was beyond annoyed. "Finally." She pointed to her wardrobe in the corner of the room. "Now. fetch me my petticoat and gown. Now." Jane huffed loudly. "I cannot control the sun, Miss. Please just cooperate and let me put the corset on."

Mary grumbled under her breath, but did as she was told and retrieved Spencer's clothing items. "Here you go, Miss," she said, handing them over. Annabeth scrunched up her nose. "Fine. Mother will hear of this."

Spencer snatched her clothes from the maid, muttering under her breath in annoyance. "Help me put them on," she huffed. "You do this every day, you should know how to by now." Jane groaned, combing her fingers though her thick brown hair. "She cannot control the sun either, darling. Please put your corset on. You want to look pretty for your sister's party tonight, right?"

Mary huffed. "You should be able to dress yourself!" she snapped without thinking. "Forgive me, Miss, but you are not your sister." Annabeth's face suddenly lit up at the mention of her sister's party. "Yeah! My sister will see to it that you and Mary are fired when she becomes Princess."

Spencer glared at Mary, her chocolate-colored eyes hardened. "You are my maid," she growled, stepping towards the timid girl. "It is your _job _to dress me. I am going to be a duchess, do you understand that? A duchess does not dress herself."

Jane tapped her foot against the ground in annoyance, her muscles tensing. She was so close to snapping at the little girl. "Of course she will," she muttered. "Now please, let me put your corset on."

Mary sniffed, mumbling under her breath. "Fine, Miss, but you are old enough to dress yourself." She quickly stuffed Spencer into the rest of her ensemble and stepped back. "You are ready for your party now, Miss."

Anaabeth scrambled into her corset and stuck her tongue out at Jane. "I'm ready for the party! Let's go!"

* * *

Meanwhile, at the Marin estate, two towns over, Hanna Marin was sauntering around her own room. Her glossy blond hair was pulled into a high bun and she had on a pink corset with white laces. "Mother, I don't see why I have to go. Can't I stay home? I can meet Spencer on a different day." Spencer Hasting's crowning was all anyone could talk about, and it was annoying. "Please?"

Ashley Marin groaned, slapping her hand to her forehead in aggravation. "Hanna, this is not just meeting Spencer. She is being crowned Princess. It will never happen again. And you, the Duchess, must go."

Hanna rolled her eyes and combed her fingers through her blond hair. "Meeting Spencer Hastings will only give me the short end of the stick, Mother. I'd soon rather watch the maid tend to the stables."

Ashley sighed heavily, wringing her hands together. "Well, you are going to the party, and that is that. You are sixteen-years-old, Hanna. A lady now. I should not even have to be reprimanding you like this."

Hanna scoffed. "I don't think we'll descend into anarchy if I miss her crowning party. I refuse to go."

Ashley reached out, grabbing her daughter's wrist. "You are going," she growled. "Or I will take away your stallion. I will send him to the butcher shop."

Hanna's jaw dropped. She had had her stallion, Chester, since she was a little girl. "You will not!" she hissed. "I will go to the party, just don't expect me to enjoy myself. If father were here, he wouldn't let you do this."

Ashley bit down on her bottom lip. Hanna knew she hated talking about her ex-husband, but that didn't seem to stop her. "He would have made you go too, Hanna. You are a princess. Now finish dressing. This arguing is petty."

Hanna huffed. Princess, princess, princess. That's all she ever heard. She loved the perks of being one, but sometimes it got so goddamn boring. "You're petty," she grumbled under her breath. But Hanna knew if she did not go, there would be consequences. So she grabbed her crown, slipped on her long white gloves and shot her mother her best smile. "All set!"

* * *

"I am so sick of everything." Spencer dug her heel into the loose dirt around the white marble bench she was sitting on. She was sitting alone in the gardens of her estate, bent over her knees with her head buried in her hands. Spencer felt like she was going to blow up. All night long, she had been surrounded by party guests, having them fawn and grovel over her. The flames from the millions of candles suspended from chandeliers in the banquet hall were too bright, and the noise too loud. So Spencer had snuck away, going to sit alone in the dark garden by herself. She needed some fresh air desperately.

"If I have to hear 'My Dear, you look so gorgeous' or 'My, how you have grown,' I will hang myself by my corset in the stables." Hanna was currently marching through the Hastings' estate, on her way out to the garden. All party long, when people didn't gush over Spencer, they were licking Hanna's black riding boots. Spencer's crowning ceremony had only taken two hours, but it felt like a fortnight to the contemptuous blonde. Wandering out into the garden, Hanna was hit by a last of cold air that she could feel even through her corset. It made her shiver and she'd wished she'd brought along her fur coat. Hanna was just about to head back into the house when she spotted someone perched on a white marble bench. Her posture was rigid and straight, her long brunette hair pulled up into a tight bun. Her crown shined even in the dull moonlight - it was Spencer Hastings. The corners of Hanna's lips twisted into a sly smile and she plopped down next to her without warning. "Hello, Duchess Spencer."

Spencer jumped in surprise, her head snapping up. Sitting next to her was a thin, petite girl with loose blonde curls and bright blue eyes. She was wearing a white dress with little pink satin bows adorning the bottom of the skirt, black leather riding boots, and long white gloves. Around her neck was a pearl necklace. Spencer was immediately drawn to her beauty; her skin was so creamy and smooth, and her lips were the pinkest Spencer had ever seen. "Um, hello? Who are you, may I ask?"

Hanna shrugged. "I think, you of all people, should know who I am. Hasn't your mother educated you in the finer parts of France?" She pointed to her own crown. "Does this not give you any hints?"

Spencer snorted, crossing her thin arms over her chest. She definitely wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone right now, especially a stranger. "I don't know who you are, obviously, and I'm not going to play a silly little guessing game to figure it out." She rolled her dark eyes. "For all I know, that crown could be a fake. I bet the diamonds aren't even real. Not like mine are."

Hanna frowned. "I beg your pardon? I'll have you know that my crown costs more than your whole entire estate, _Miss Hastings." _She scowled. Spencer was quite rude. She glanced at a flask next to the taller girl and her eyebrows knitted together. "May I..have some of that?" She gestured towards the flask with a flick of her head.

Spencer glanced down at the flask sitting on the bench beside her, frowning at it before picking it up and shoving it at the other girl. "Sure, whatever. Maybe you'll get drunk and fall in the fountain." She shifted away from the blonde girl, gritting her teeth together. "And I can tell, just by the looks of it, that your crown is cheap. I am a Duchess, darling. Not some wannabe princess."

Hanna snatched the flask up and unscrewed the lid. The whiskey aroma wafted up her nose. She swished the liquid around in the flask, ignoring Spencer's snide retort. "Funny, you seem to be confusing me with someone who gives a damn. I can tell you right now, that I'm pretty sick of all the responsibilities I'm in charge of. Besides, party etiquette is pretty boring."

Spencer crossed her legs over each other as she absentmindedly rubbed her pointer finger against the smooth marble of the bench. "Tell me about it," she muttered. "Truth be told, I'd rather be a commoner than a duchess. And this party is just horrid. I would rather be at home, asleep."

"Really?" Hanna tilted her head back as she drunk from the flask. The whiskey burned her throat and she coughed, wrenching it away from her. The flask flew from her grasp and landed on Spencer's corset, drenching the white gown in the sticky brown substance.

Spencer shrieked, jumping up as cold, wet whisky seeped through her petticoat and onto her legs. "YOU LITTLE WRETCH!" she barked, glaring at Hanna and clenching her pale fists. "Look what you did to me! My dress is ruined! I could have you executed, you bitch!"

Hanna gasped. "Oh, shit, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to-" Her lips pressed into a thin line at Spencer's threat, and she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to hold her laughter back. "You can't execute a princess, that is most absurd." She sighed and stood up, offering the Dutchess a gloved hand. "Let's go clean you up before your...followers see you in such distress."

Spencer's dark eyes widened, her thin lips falling open as she gasped. "You're a *princess*? But you are so..pathetic. And I can execute whomever I please, thank you very much." She snorted, jerking her hand out of the other girl's reach. "Don't touch me! Come one, we have to get this cleaned before it stains. Oh, Mother is going to be furious. I cannot believe you did this!"

Hanna rolled her eyes. "Honestly, you could use a little more fire in your wrath, Miss Hastings." She sashayed away, knowing Spencer would follow. Inside the estate, party-goers danced around and chatted amongst themselves. The girls were able to slip quietly up a few flights of stairs and Hanna yanked Spencer into the nearest powder room she could find. The bright lights were almost blinding and the bathroom was almost as big as her own room. It had a white marble sink and a tub large enough to hold twenty people, at the very least. She sat down in a chair near the door, where she assumed the maid sat for a rest whenever she cleaned the powder room. "All of this fuss over a simple dress. You can always buy a new one."

Spencer stood over the edge of the bathtub, fusing over her soiled dress. "I cannot replace this one! This dress is made of the finest silk, don't you understand? I do not want a new one! This is my favorite dress, you little shrew!" She huffed, glaring at the blonde girl. "Why are you just sitting there? Help me get this disaster off!"

Hanna scowled. "Do not call me a shrew, you vile excuse of a Duchess." She stood up and stepped behind Spencer. Her nimble fingers were quick to untie Spencer's corset, revealing more of her skin as she did so. Hanna couldn't help but notice that Spencer's skin looked really...soft. When she was done, she backed up and cross her arms over her chest. "Go ahead."

Spencer writhed out of corset and the dress before tossing them into the corner of the room. She had no use for them, now that they were ruined. "Filthy things," she muttered, moving to sit on the side of the bathtub. All of a sudden, she felt extremely exposed to the other girl. She didn't even know this girl's name! Sure, she was used to undressing in front of her maids, but this was different. This girl didn't have the rights to be looking at her in her undergarments. "Look away!" she barked. "I am half-naked, for God's sake. You shan't be looking at me when I am not wearing any clothing."

Hanna arched her thin eyebrows. "Well, there's no need to be so smart. I..." She paused, considering whether she should reveal her secret to Spencer. For as long as she could remember, Hanna Marin, princess and heir to the Marin fortune, was gay. Gay. It felt weird to even say the word, at first. But then she'd learned to accept it. There was nothing wrong with it, despite what others would say or think. She didn't feel sick. It wasn't an illness. Hanna just knew she was attracted to girls like she had blue eyes. "I think you look rather beautiful."

Spencer glared at Hanna, her dark eyes hardened. "You should not be looking at me," she hissed angrily. "I do not give a damn to what you think of my appearance, wretch. My body is mine and mine only to look at."

Hanna's lips stretched into a small grin. "You know, I never told you, my name is Hanna. Hanna Marin." She saw Spencer's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and it only made her grin widen. "Your body _can _be mine if you wanted it to," she added under her breath.

Spencer gasped, her pale hand flying up to cover her pink lips. "_You're _Princess Hanna Marin? Your family is almost as famous as mine!" But then Spencer's expression turned cold again, and she scowled at Hanna. "You still cannot look at me. Avert your eyes."

Hanna shrugged. "Almost? I think you meant to say just as famous." She got up and started to walk around the bathroom, admiring the various plants and portraits that served as decor. "Would you like to know a secret of mine, Miss Hastings?"

Spencer narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest tightly. "No," she spat. "I would like you to get out of my powder room, right this instant. I want to take a bath."

Hanna turned around and leaned against the edge of the sink. "What I'm about to confide in you cannot leave this room. This information is grounds for blackmail and execution." She completely ignored the other girl's demand.

Spencer rolled her chocolate-colored eyes, groaning in exasperation. "I don't want to know your petty secret, you pest. Get away from me before I call on my knights to do it for me."

Hanna chuckled. Spencer was...cute when she was flustered. "Quite a threat, Miss Hastings. Quite a threat." She exhaled deeply. "I'm gay," she announced for the first time out loud. "I, Hanna Marin, am gay."

Spencer's eyes were as wide as saucers, her jaw hanging open. "E-Excuse me?" she sputtered, frantically scrambling away from Hanna. "Get away from me! You're VILE, you wretched thing!"

Hanna flinched. She'd expected Spencer to react this way. She'd prepared for this sort of backlash. "I really don't see what the big deal is. So I like girls, what's wrong with that? It's just who I am."

Spencer gaped at Hanna, her pale hands curled around the rim of the bathtub. 'It's wrong! You're...a freak. Women are meant for men, Hanna. That's what the Bible says. That's what _everyone _says!" Still, Spencer couldn't help but find herself intrigued. The fact that Hanna was attracted to girls was quite interesting to Spencer.

Hanna sighed. "The Greeks were accepting of same-sex relationships, so why can't we be? This isn't _my_ fault, Miss Hastings. It is just how I feel. Girls are gentle and sweet. I just can't ever see myself in the future, with a man. Although I am engaged to married, through an arranged marriage, I think THAT is wrong. How can anyone decide who I am to love and cherish?"

Spencer glared at the shorter girl. "Last time I checked, _Miss Marin,_ we are not Greek. We are French." She snorted loudly. "Of course it's your fault! You're the one who likes girls, now aren't you? I bet you're just looking for attention, you wretch. You're already a princess, what more do you want? Like I said, you are vile." She ground her teeth together. "You'll learn to love your husband. And if you don't, you'll still produce heirs for your family. That's the point of marriage, after all. Don't you want your legacy to live on?"

Hanna smirked. Couldn't Spencer think for herself? "Well, I bet your parents will be glad to know that you're the perfect, brainwashed conformist. And here I thought pretty girls were wise." She reached her hands up, fixing her bun which had become loose. "I want to live the way I want. I am not a puppet whose strings you can pull. How to dress, how to eat, how to talk, how to behave, and whom to love. I am my own woman, Spencer." She stepped closer. "You can't tell me this hasn't peaked your curiosity. You must wander what it's like, to kiss another girl."

Spencer bit down hard on her bottom lip. Truth be told, she _was _curious. Very curious. The thought of Hanna's sexuality was so interesting to her. "I don't wonder at all," she lied. "I think it's disgusting. You're a pig, not a princess. You deserve to be hanged for being so disgraceful."

Hanna's smile disappeared. That one had stung. She knew Spencer was snarky, but she didn't think she'd ever say something like that. Her throat tightened and tears formed in her eyes. She blinked them away. "Well," she started, hoping Spencer didn't hear the crack in her voice, "perhaps you are correct. Maybe I'll hang myself from my ceiling tonight with one of my scarves."

Spencer sighed softly, gazing down at the floor. She could tell she'd hurt Hanna's feelings. It made sense, after the cruel thing Spencer had said. "I-I didn't mean that," she said gently. "That was horrid of me. No one should wish death upon another person, even if they're as...different as you are."

Hanna glanced briefly at Spencer. "It certainly seemed like you meant it. How many times have you called me 'wretch' or 'vile' since we met?" She slowly sat down next to Spencer, trying to ignore the fact that she visibly shifted uncomfortably. "Miss Spencer, there are things in this world that we cannot control. War. The families we're born into. Illnesses and deaths. _This _is something that I cannot control. Believe me, when I first realized it, I tried. I tried so very hard to make myself attracted to boys, but it just did not happen. I think girls are beautiful creatures. Their hair, their eyes, their lips. The smell of their perfumes and the way their voices are soft and melodic. Except yours. Your voice is low and husky, I think it is one of your best features. There are many."

Spencer stiffened, curling her long fingers around her arms. "I am sorry I insulted you. I just...I don't understand. Women are meant to be with men, and that is that. I know you say that can't control it, but I do not understand why. Can't you love a man, like you're supposed to?" She sighed gently. "I am grateful that you think I am beautiful, but I don't see how a woman could love another woman like she could love a man."

Hanna rolled her eyes and yanked off her white gloves, tossing them to the floor. "I just can't. I don't know why, but I can't. Another woman could make me happy, but a man would make me miserable." She reached out and tentatively touched Spencer's arm. "I am gay, Spencer, and _that is that. _Now..." She rose to her feet, crossed over to the door and opened it. Music floated out from the first floor. "If you are thinking of revealing my innermost secret to all of France, please do so while I am present so I can be hauled away and executed. This way, I'll know it's coming instead of having officers show up at my door unannounced."

Spencer found herself disappointed that Hanna had let go of her arm. Her fingers had been so warm and soft on her skin. "No! Stay!" she found herself saying, even though just moments ago all she had wanted was for Hanna to leave. "I..I don't want to be alone. I am sorry for what I say, truly. Please stay with me."

Hanna let go of the doorknob, shut the door, and carefully sat back down, eyeing Spencer cautiously. "Forgive me if I am mistaken, but I thought you were sickened by me."

Spencer laid her hands on her knees delicately, slowly creeping towards Hanna. "I am not sickened by you," she sighed. "I was just a bit confused, and I am sorry. Will you forgive me?"

Spencer noticed Hanna staring at her chest, and she fought the urge to yell at her again. It was kind of nice, actually, knowing that Hanna found her attractive. "I can't. That is the reason we're in here, remember? You spilled whiskey on my dress. I am not just going to run up to my bedroom in my undergarments! Everyone will see me."

Hanna's lips twisted up into a cunning smile. "Would it really be bad if they did? Take it from someone who knows what she's talking about, you are really stunning." She placed a hand on Spencer's torso. "You're very thin. I wish I could be as thin as you."

Spencer gigged, moving even closer to Hanna. She was so comfortable around her now (maybe she always had been), it was so easy to just be herself. "I would be a disgrace to my family! To all of France, actually. The Duchess is not allowed to be seen in her underwear." She sighed, Hanna's skin smooth against hers. "I-I think you're perfect the way you are. You don't need to be any thinner. You're a very pretty girl, Hanna."

Hanna's heart fluttered. Spencer complimenting her felt really good. Her words made her heart pump faster, the blood coursing through her veins. "Why, Miss Hastings, I believe you are coming onto me." She swallowed, reached up and grabbed Spencer's chin with her hand. "Am I right?"

Spencer didn't even realize she was holding her breath until all of a sudden, she was struggling to get air into her lungs. She licked her lips, gazing down at Hanna. She really was beautiful, and so intriguing. "I-I believe you are, Miss Hanna. You're not as bad as I thought you were."

Hanna leaned closer to had very dark eyes. They were very...mysterious. "You look a little tense, darling. Are you okay?"

Spencer gulped, her eyes drifting to look into Hanna's. They were so blue, with tiny flecks of black in the irises. "I-I am fine. It is just too warm in here for my liking."

Hanna smirked. Spencer was nervous. She inched even closer to her, their knees knocking together. "Then perhaps, if you are hot, I should draw you a cool bath. I'll even stay an keep you company."

Spencer scraped her teeth over her bottom lip. As badly as she wanted to pull away from Hanna, she wanted to be this close to her more. Closer, even. "But...you would see me naked. No one sees me naked, not even my own mother."

Hanna released Spencer's chin, folding her shaking hands in her lap. Spencer was enchanting. She felt like there was this strong force pulling her closer to the Duchess. Without thinking, Hanna did something that could very well get her beheaded by the end of the night - She kissed the Duchess.

* * *

Well, what do you guys think? Would you like to see this continued?

As always, leave reviews!


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